


Five Senses

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:02:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6609988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes all of our senses to realize what's right in front of us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Senses

** **

 

**SMELL**

  
“Come on, Cas. You’ve been staring at the giraffes for ten minutes now. Time to move on.” Dean, hands shoved in his pockets, was obviously bored by the zoo.

  
“I find them fascinating creatures, Dean,” Castiel replied, taking one last look at the graceful creatures before following Dean to the next exhibit. It was nice of Dean to take a few hours out of their trip home to show him the zoo. Though he’d been to the plains of Africa, the mountains of South America and just about everywhere in between, seeing the animals up close was a thrill. The cotton candy was an added bonus. He didn’t realize it, but his tongue was now a very unnatural shade of blue.

  
They walked along the pathway, moving around other people and small children, until they came to the elephant enclosure. “These are African elephants, Dean.”

  
“Uh huh.” Dean gave them a cursory glance and his eyes strayed to a group of young mothers, all with strollers. “Check out the MILFs, Cas.”

  
“What is a MILF?” Castiel asked curiously.

  
Dean looked back at him and shrugged. “Not really important.”

  
“Did you know that elephants have sensory receptors in the feet? They can detect…”

  
“I know they smell bad.” Dean wrinkled his nose. Castiel sniffed the air. He picked up the aromas of God’s creatures, food and the cloying scent of someone’s perfume.

  
“Every living thing has its own scent, Dean. Even you.”

  
“Yeah, well…whatever.” Castiel looked from Dean to the elephants, then back again.

  
“You are not having a good time. Perhaps we should leave.” Castiel folded the map of the zoo carefully into fourths and pushed it into the pocket of his trenchcoat.

  
Dean caught Castiel’s arm as he turned towards the exit. “Cas, I’m sorry. I just…” He moved his hands in a circle. “…hate seeing them in cages. We can stay as long as you want.”

  
Castiel stared down at his feet. “No, it’s okay. Let’s be on our way. We still have a day’s drive to get home.”

  
They left the zoo behind. Dean was silent and seemed in deep thought, so Castiel watched the scenery go by. “So, what do I smell like?”

  
Perplexed by Dean’s question, Castiel simply stared for a few moments. “You smell like a forest on a spring morning and leather, with a trace of the spice markets of Morocco.”

  
Dean stared at him for so long, someone honked because the Impala crossed the middle line. Dean whipped the car back over, hands tight on the wheel now. He looked straight ahead. “That’s kind of sappy, Cas,” he muttered softly.

  
Shrugging, Castiel’s eyes went back to the passenger window. “You smell like cinnamon…not the baked in a pie cinnamon, more like the kind you smell around the holidays.”

  
A slight smiled played at the corner of Castiel’s mouth. “That could also be classified as sappy, Dean.” He was rewarded by Dean’s smile, the one that made his eyes twinkle in the late afternoon sun.

  
“Look, Cas, I really am sorry I was such a shit at the zoo. What if I make you cheeseburgers to make it up to you. Dinner, just you and me.”

  
“I will look forward to that, Dean,” Castiel said softly. Just him and Dean, having dinner. Yes, he would like that.

  
**TASTE**

  
Dean did feel guilty about the way he rushed Cas through the zoo. He needed to make it up to the angel. Maybe he’d take him to Busch Gardens one day soon, at least the animals were in big enclosures. Plus there were rides. He grinned. Cas on a roller coaster. Now, that would be awesome.

  
The hamburgers were made and on a plate next to the stove. Dean had even used real potatoes for the French fries. Cas was going to be impressed. As the cast iron skillet heated up, he glanced over at the table. He’d tossed a couple of paper plates down for their meal. He frowned. Nope, not good enough. Once the burgers were sizzling in the pan, he started opening cabinets. Dean knew the Men of Letters had some fancy shit somewhere. In the bottom cabinet nearest to the door, he found what he was looking for.

  
After turning the burgers, Dean finished the table and stood back looking at his handiwork. The white tablecloth may have been overkill, but it did make the place look classy.

  
With the fries in the oven and the burgers on low, Dean walked down the hall to the small wine cellar they’d stumbled on in their early days at the bunker. Since neither he, nor Sam were wine drinkers, it had been left alone. Red wine went with red meat. He knew that much.

  
He was holding a bottle of port when his phone rang. “What’s up, Sammy?”

  
“Look, this simple salt and burn has turned out to be more complex than we first thought.”

  
“You need my help?” Dean asked, already calculating how long it would take him to get to Sioux Falls.

  
“No, Jodi is backing me up. Just wanted you to know that I won’t be home tonight.” Dean just bet Jodi was backing him up. He always thought those two would make a good couple. Who gave a fuck about their age difference? Jodi understood their life.

  
The wine was poured and tasted pretty good. It was heavy and sweet. Might even go great with a good cigar, Dean mused. He placed the burgers and fries on real plates and set them on the table. Just one more finishing touch…Dean lit the two candles he found in the same cabinet at the tablecloth.

  
Cas was in Sam’s room watching Netflix. Dean swore the angel was addicted. “Hey, Cas, dinner’s ready.”

  
Cas looked up with a start. “Oh, okay, Dean. Just let me pause this. I’ve just started watching Bates Motel. I believe Norman is mentally ill.”

  
“Yeah, Cas, he grows up to slash a woman in the shower and keeps his dead mother in the attic. He’s batshit crazy.” Cas’ face fell.

  
“I supposed I don’t need to watch the rest of the series, since you told me how it ends.”

  
For the second time today, Dean felt like a shit. “Sorry, Cas…they made a movie about Norman Bates a million years ago. It was called Psycho. They based this series off of it. You still need to watch it if you’re enjoying it.” Dean didn’t realize his hand was on the small of Cas’ back as they made their way to the kitchen. He quickly dropped it.

  
Cas stared at the table and a small smile graced his lips. “Dean, this looks nice. You even lit candles. And there’s wine. It’s like the movie Kate and Leopold. Will there be violin music?” Dean narrowed his eyes. Kate and Leopold? Wasn’t that some chick flick.  
“Okay, Cas, I’m cutting off your Netflix subscription. Real men don’t watch chick flicks. And this isn’t a date. It’s just two friends having dinner.” With candles and wine. Shit. It looked like a date.

  
“Of course, two friends having dinner.”

  
As they ate, Dean watched his friend. Cas closed his eyes with every bite of his burger and he chewed slowly like he was savoring each and every molecule. The burgers did taste pretty damn good. Dean had a secret recipe. A sprinkle of onion powder and a splash of soy sauce were the keys to a good burger. When Cas ran out of fries, Dean pushed his plate to the center of the table. “Help me finish mine, Cas.”

  
**SIGHT**

  
Castiel helped Dean clean up the kitchen. After the incident with the dishwashing liquid, he wasn’t allowed to wash the dishes anymore, but Dean let him dry. He watched Dean move efficiently around the kitchen, wiping surfaces and putting things in the refrigerator. There wasn’t any wasted movement. Castiel decided summer was his favorite season, because Dean didn’t wear layers. Tonight, he was just in a black t-shirt. It was tight on his biceps and Castiel watched the muscles move under the skin. His father surely made humans to be works of art.

  
When he leaned over to put the candles back in the cabinet, the thin cotton fabric stretched tightly across his back and he saw the bunch and release of Dean’s trapezoids. Yes, Dean was a work of art. He paused, still holding the last fork to be put away…he had always admired Dean and enjoyed looking at him. Staring into his soul through his beautiful eyes was something he could do for hours. While unseen by most, Dean’s soul was a sight to behold.

  
Little by little, year after year, Castiel began to notice Dean’s physical attributes. The way he looked and moved. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Those lines have gotten deeper with age, but in Castiel’s opinion, it just made Dean more handsome. Handsome…such a strange word to describe a human, but it fit Dean.

  
Dean looked at him quizzically. He snapped his fingers. “Yo, Cas, you in there, Buddy? Where did you zone out too?”

  
Castiel wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, not knowing what to say and he noticed Dean’s eyes tracking the movement. “Dean…”

  
“Huh?” Dean’s eyes moved upwards until they met Cas’.

  
“I think you are handsome,” Castiel said softly before turning to put the fork away. He shut the drawer.

  
“Uh…okay…thanks. You mind telling me what brought that on?” Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

  
“Perhaps living with humans has made me appreciate my father’s creations…” Castiel shrugged, a human use of body language he’d learned from living with the Winchesters.

  
Dean seemed satisfied with his answer and took the towel from his hands. “Come on, let’s go watch some TV.”

  
Castiel followed Dean down the hallway, watching the way Dean’s ass filled out his jeans…the thickness of his thighs, the bow of his legs. Castiel felt something wash over him. Desire…need…want? All were emotions he’d not experienced.

  
**TOUCH**

  
Dean headed for the den. At least, that’s what he called it. It was just a storage room until he gave it a makeover. He’d used one of their credit cards to buy a large flatscreen television from Best Buy. The thing was mounted on the wall and the couch from a local thrift store was big enough for the two men to sit comfortable. Dean propped his feet up on old ammo box they used as a coffee table and picked up the remote.

  
Cas settled down next to him, close enough so Dean could feel his body heat, but not so close someone would think they’re gay for each other. Because, well, they weren’t. Dean looked down where their thighs almost touched. His fingers itched to touch. Dean clinched his fist. People didn’t just go around touching their friend’s legs, even if they wanted to…even if they’d maybe thought about it…on more than one occasion…while jerking off. Dean stared at the screen, not even sure what he was seeing. He’d masturbated to images of his best friend. He was going to hell.

  
“Dean, I wasn’t aware you were interested in storage facilities,” Cas’ voice brought him out of his thoughts.

  
“Huh?” Dean blinked at the television set. A group of people stood around a storage unit and some guy was acting as on auctioneer. “Yeah…I’m not…I was just channel surfing…”

  
“You haven’t left this channel for five minutes. I assumed you were…”

  
“Shut up, Cas. I just wanted to see what was in that unit and then I was gonna move on,” Dean snarled. Cas turned his head away and stared stoically at the screen and Dean tried to calm his ass down. Some loud mouthed blonde won the bid and with a lot of fanfare, she began to rummage through the cardboard boxes. Dean flipped the channel. Reality television sucked.

  
Dean found a show on the History Channel about making swords. “See, now this is cool.”

  
Cas continued to sit stiffly beside him. Dean nudged Cas’ thigh with his own and so what if he left it there. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. Now, come on, lean back, get comfy.” The angel did lean back but he still looked like he had a stick up his ass. And there it was again…dirty thoughts…dirty thoughts of putting his dick inside Cas’ tight… Dean stood up suddenly. “Uhm, I’m uh…” He drew a complete blank.

  
“Dean, is everything alright?” Dean knew he looked freaked out because well, he was freaked out. He was fifty degrees past freaked out. Unsure of what to say or do, Dean sat down again and flipped the remote off. The room was silent. He rubbed the back of his neck and then bit his lower lip.

  
“Cas…have you ever…” Dean stopped. Cas tilted his head in that confused way he had…the one Dean hadn’t seen much, ever since Metatron pumped Cas full of pop culture crap. Sometimes he missed the way Cas was then.

  
As if Cas knew what Dean was trying to say, Castiel touched Dean’s cheek with his fingertips. It caused such a warm feeling in Dean that he automatically leaned into the touch. Cas’ mouth opened and he looked awestruck.

  
**HEARING**

  
If he concentrated hard enough, with touch, he could hear Dean’s thoughts. He stopped doing it years ago…during the bad times. But Dean seemed to be struggling with his words and Castiel just wanted to help…just wanted to understand.

  
“Dean,” he whispered the one name that made him the weakest. The name both feared and hated by his brothers and sisters. The name of the man he chose over heaven itself.

  
“Cas…I think…” Dean was starting to hyperventilate, his breath harsh sounding in the quiet of the room.

  
“I know, Dean.”

  
“You…You know what, Cas?” Castiel gave him one of his rare smiles.

  
“I can feel what you are feeling, Dean.” Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes…into his soul. It was so bright that his first reaction was to turn away, but no…

  
“Cas, I don’t know what to do here, man,” Dean whispered. Castiel felt Dean’s hands on his waist, fingers hooked into his belt loops. Castiel moved his fingers across the stubble of Dean’s jaw and over his lips. Dean closed his eyes, all the fight or flight reflexes gone now. With a sigh that nearly brought Castiel to his knees, Dean leaned into him. Chest to chest, hands clutching at him like he never wanted to let go.

  
“Is this what love feels like?” Castiel asked against the skin of Dean’s neck. He felt Dean shaking and he pulled back. Dean was laughing. “I don’t see what is funny about…” Dean lips silenced him. As the kiss deepened, Castiel heard small sounds of pleasure, but he was feeling so strange that he wasn’t sure who was making them.

  
Castiel couldn’t remember sitting back on the couch. He couldn’t remember when they finally stopped kissing long enough to murmur those three words to each other.

  
As he listened to Dean’s breathing even out, Castiel thanked his father for sending him to pull Dean from hell. As they lay on the couch, wrapped in each others arms and Dean’s soft snores filled the silence, Castiel could honestly say he knew what love felt like. “I love you, Dean,” he whispered against Dean’s ear and Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand in his sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who like my stuff, I've created a FB group page. I'll post my stuff there and you can give me prompts. https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/


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